Monday, October 22, 2012

Just Saying

Last week was crazy, so sorry for my absence.  I must give you a few quote from last week that I am still laughing about.

Two boys are talking at the lunch table.  One says to the other, "There's this guy.  His name is Rock Obama.  He's fighting this other guy.  His name is Mitt.  They are fighting about this thing called a debate.  You know what this guy Mitt said?  He's gonna take away PBS Kids!"  The children are 5 and 6 years old. 

Two more boys are talking in my presence at school.  These boys are a little older, I think they are in 2nd grade this year.  One boy says to the other, "My armpits are sweaty!  They are so sweaty that I could cook a steak in my armpit.  The other day my Dad said I could give it a try!"

Monday, October 15, 2012


Literally five seconds after the woman who adopted our sugar gliders Chili and Pepper walked out the door both kids were bugging me about a new dog.  Another dog.  Another pet.

I gave a typical smart response and told them that they needed to let things settle, the sting of $600 walking out the front door mainly, before bringing up another animal.

Minutes passed and Hannah was on the SISCA site...then onto the Human Society site.  She changed the background picture on the computer to a picture of a dog she had found...Chuckie the Cheweenie.  Any dog she found Hannah would look at the picture and give the saccharine "awww."  I was throwing up in my mouth.

Don't get me wrong!  I love dogs.  I love animals.  I would have a house FULL of dogs if I weren't allergic, and I didn't mind pee everywhere.  My clean phobia battles my animal loving obsession all the time.

I am slammed at work and school this week.  Working late, finals, soccer games, you name it.  Yesterday as I sat at the kitchen table working on a piece for my final I look up to see a bag of bones cat crawling around our deck.  I had heard the kids mention it before, but never really paid attention.

I walked into the laundry room and scooped up some food (Chloe's cheap cat food) and leaving Chloe inside the house to attack the french door, went outside and placed a disposable container of food under the bench on the deck out of the rain.  I sat back down at the kitchen table, and not five minutes later I looked up to see the cat chowing down.  I watched her for awhile and after she finished and disappeared I walked outside to retrieve the dish.

The cat was mewing like crazy from under the deck.  So I climbed under the deck to see.  She, with a little prompting, came out and attacked me with her neck, trying to get me to pet her.

I am allergic.  Not crazy allergic, but pretty darn close.  So I pet her and talked to her while Chloe whipped herself into a frenzy in the house.

More snuggling.  More food.  Kids came home to find we had adopted an outdoor cat.

The kids made her a nice little bed and food dish in the safety of the bushes surrounding the deck.  Last night we had a terrible rain storm and I woke a few times wondering if she were okay.  Maybe she should come in the garage?

I guess I'm a cat owner.

Thursday, October 11, 2012


Last night Hannah and I were sitting in the car at Bubba's soccer game.  No, there was no alcohol involved, just Hannah and me in the car farting (Hannah) and laughing.  We are people watching, as usual, and I point out a woman that I used to work with standing on the sidelines.  Apparently this woman chatted David up the night before about the school levy, and coincidentally she told me as much earlier in the day when I bumped into her.  

I was telling Hannah that this woman, Amy, had asked me who David was.  David had been standing with Sam on the sidelines the day before and she recognized Sam and wondered.  I told Amy that Sam was with his Dad.

Hannah turns to me and asks me, "So what is he?"  

"What is who?" I ask back.

"What is Dad?" Hannah asks.

"Who is Dad?"  I feign as I try and keep the Who's on first routine going.  I knew exactly what Hannah was asking, I just wanted her to articulate.

"What is Dad now?" Hannah asks.

"You mean, of what relation is your father to me?" I finally ask giving in.

"Yea.  How do I refer to him?" Hannah continues.

"You mean your father?  You call him Dad." I deadpan.

"What do you call him?" She asks.


"Oh for Pete sake mom!  How do you define your relationship with Dad?"

"Friend." I continue.

Hannah growls.

"Your father, my ex-huband, my first husband, or previous husband?  I have no relationship but friends with him."

"You could also say person I used to have sex with."

"Eww.  Hannah.  That's gross, A.  And 2, that's not appropriate."

Hannah picks up my phone and starts playing with it.

"I prefer friend or ex-husband, thank you," I say.

David texts me from across the field and I look at my phone.  The text reads that it is from  "Not so husband"

Apparently she has defined the relationship.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012


My kids are hilarious.  So freaking hilarious that I love sharing stories with you about their antics.  Of coarse in my eyes, they are nobel prize winning comedians, if there were such a thing, but by your standards?  They are moderately funny.  Here are some of their antics from the last few days...

I L*O*V*E Diet Coke.  (No I am not a paid sponsor...oh to dream).  Yesterday we went to Chick-fil-A for lunch, since it was a holiday, and I acquired one of their styrofoam whale pails of Diet Coke for my drinking pleasure.  We eat lunch, I finish my drink, and like all great restaurants, Chick-fil-A gives free refills, so the kids and I stop on the way out the door to top off.   Into the car...stop at a store...back in the car...I absentmindedly pick up my drink and take a long pull while driving down the road.  It is then that I realize that Bubba has taken advantage of me and swapped drink holder positions with me so when I grab the drink closest to me I take a giant swallow of Cherry Coke.  This may not seem like a big deal to you, but when you are expecting Diet Coke, and have consumed nothing but Diet Coke for 43 years, and you get full sugar, cough syrup-like Cherry Coke...causes an eruption of carbonated beverage out ones' nose, spraying the inside of the car.  Much to the delight of your offspring.

Today we were driving to the soccer field.  Gasp.  I know.  It's not like I don't do this 4 or more days a week.  Anyway, on the way to the soccer field Bubba rolls down the window and I ask him to close it up since it's a little cool outside.  After arriving at the field and wedging myself between two parked vehicles I decide that I'm going to be social and sit on the sidelines with the common folk rather that sequester myself to the car with alcoholic beverages, like I've been known to do in the past.  I open the trunk, fish out a chair, grab the blankets and coats I need and walk around to the passenger side of the car to see what Bubba is going to do.  As I open the door I realize there is a GIANT loogie splattered along the passenger side of the car.   Without realizing that there is an open window and a man sitting in the vehicle next to me I say, "What the crap Sam?  There is a GIANT loogie on the outside of the car!"  The man next to me erupts in laughter as I continue with, "You're gross.  You know you are washing my car now, right?"  Sam gets out to take a look and says, "I guess I shouldn't have drank that big glass of milk before we left..."  much to the gentleman's delight.

Hannah's antics up next.

Friday, October 5, 2012


Yesterday I walked into work and one of my Kindergarten students ran up to me and hugged me around the waist. While this is not an uncommon occurrence, as most days I am hugged by someone waist-high, I was a little shocked to see who was hugging me.  This boy, a student, is one I struggle with most days.

Right after hugging me he tilted his head up toward mine and said without prompt, "Hey. My mama says that if you have a gripe about my lunch today that you should give her a call."


I look over to see my boss standing a few feet away from me and I look down to this still attached student and say, "That's silly.  Why don't you come over here and tell Ms. D. what you just told me."  I give the student a big grin.  He jovially agrees and runs over to Ms. D. and repeats the offensive sentence to her dismay, as she had a discussion of appropriate lunch items only the day before with his Dad.

The previous day, this particular student had brought for his lunch a: bottle of chocolate milk (approx. 80 grams of sugar), a bag of colored mini marshmallows, and a jelly sandwich on white bread. Our school follows state standards, and each child must have 2 fruits and veggie servings, 1 bread or grain carb serving, 1 dairy serving, and 1 protein serving.

Later yesterday I walked the children into the lunchroom and this same student while unpacking his lunch decided to wear his brown paper sack as a hat.  The entire lunchroom waited until he removed the bag to say the lunch prayer, and he got so mad at me that I made him remove his hat, that he refused to eat.  He did not eat one morsel of food.  That and he had healthier lunch components.

It was a long day.

Thursday, October 4, 2012

15 year old Politics

I drive my daughter and three other high school students to school during the school year.  Two boys...two girls...all roughly 15 years old.  Fifteen.  

One of the boys is, to put it mildly, not my favorite 15 year old.  He is smart mouthed, racist, foul mouthed, and very opinionated.  He is a bully.  He bad-mouths his girlfriend, the other girl in the car, and has even said to her that she "needs to go on Weight Watchers" in my presence.  I have threatened to throw him out of the car and not give him a ride before, but previously only in jest because I think he is a tool.

On Tuesday, he started in on politics as I sat in the front seat trying to keep my cool.  He comes from a three generation household, 24 hour a day Fox news watching family, and his father just retired from the military after a long career.  You can probably guess what "his" political affiliation is, but that is not relevant to the story.  Neither is mine.  Who cares if I am voting to elect or re-elect?  This boy-child begins bashing a certain candidate.  When he stops to take a breath he says, "You know Mrs. Careless (to me) it's called freedom of speech.  I have the right to speak freely"

Before I knew it I retorted, "You know, it's called freedom of choice kid. And I have the right to throw your ass out of my car."

Let's just say the car went silent.  I continued, "And, last time I checked I am a registered voter in this state, and you don't have the right to vote for some 3 more years?"

The other boy in the back seat meekly inquired, "Did you want us to just get out here then?"

This is all about respect.  This punk kid has the audacity to disrespect me in my own vehicle while I am doing a favor to his parents?  I don't know what would have happened to me had I disrespected an adult as a teenager.  I honestly doubt I would be here today.

Upon reflection I am reminded of one of my top 10 movies, The American President.  What I should have said?  I should have spouted a retort like President Andrew Shepherd...

"You want free speech? Let's see you acknowledge a man whose words make your blood boil, who's standing center stage and advocating at the top of his lungs that which you would spend a lifetime opposing at the top of yours. You want to claim this land as the land of the free?..."

Wednesday, October 3, 2012


I was shopping in Meijer with the kids the other day and Bubba saw the display of sweat pants.  He went crazy.  Apparently he has had a dream to own a pair of sweatpants and matching sweatshirt for quite awhile now, and I never knew.  

It was negotiated, and I agreed to purchase a sweatsuit for his lounging use only.  He can NOT wear the assemble out of the house.  He hemmed and hawed and settled on a dark grey pant and matching crew neck top to his delight..  Who knew?

Bubba was so excited, he took the bag containing the purchase into the back seat with him and had stripped and changed before I even made the first trip into the house with the bags of groceries when we arrived home.

A few days later I walked in the door from work to find Bubba in his sweatsuit (3rd day in a row) playing a video game.  He saw me walk in the door and ran up to me excitedly talking.  "Mom!  Mom!  These are the most comfortable things ever.  I LOVE my new sweatsuit."

His enthusiasm was met with a "That's nice, Bubba."  

Bubba then ran over and got the Sunday shopping inserts and turned to a page and exclaimed, "And guess what?  I can wear these forever!  Look!  They make sweats in adult sizes too!  Why don't all adults wear sweats ALL the time?"

Oi vey.  

The New Me

Yes, it has been awhile.  Tonight I was talking on the phone with Matt, my brother, about his blog.  Matt proposed that I write something for his blog, as a guest blogger, and the thought excited me!  But then I thought, what the heck?  I have my own soapbox!  So here I am.  Sorry for my absence.

In a nut shell, here is what has happened in the last few months...

-my kids are still as crazy as ever and are the primary source for this blog.
-my dog got rid of her mohawk.  Recently.
-we gave away our sugar gliders last weekend. Hundreds of dollars down the drain.
-I got divorced.
-5 seconds after the flying squirrels left my kids started in on a new dog.
-I still live in the same house as my ex-husband.
-Hannah didn't make the HS soccer team, so both kids are playing rec.
-I'm still in grad school and doing well, but also freaking out occasionally.
-I am considering dating.
-I grew my hair out and dyed it blonde.
-my ex-husband and I are friends.
-my evil and irritating tweenage "boss" left (was let go) and I took her position.
-I am starting over with a social life.
-I am venturing out of my shell and making friends.
-I recently rammed a bus into a basketball hoop at the local elementary school and ripped a hole in the top of the bus and my boss didn't fire me.
-I feel better than I have in years emotionally.
-I recently (4 days ago) gave up sugar, flour, and dairy.
-I am still very much a crazy person.

Any questions?